


What about the stars?

by inslupbanana



Series: Ghosts oneshots/drabbles [2]
Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inslupbanana/pseuds/inslupbanana
Summary: Just Robin and Thomas and the night sky
Relationships: Robin & Thomas Thorne
Series: Ghosts oneshots/drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754620
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	What about the stars?

**Author's Note:**

> So this was something I found in my phone notes when trying to write a different fanfic and obviously I got side-tracked and wrote this silly little thing up instead.  
> I hope you enjoy I guess?

Robin hadn't deliberately gone to find Thomas, he'd known after the upset of the last few days that the other ghost was probably down by the lake (like he normally was) but the caveman hadn't left the house with the conscious intention to go and find him. In actual fact, he'd heard the Captain discussing the lack of cloud cover in his all-important tones with Pat and had figured that maybe now would be a good time to go and get a look at his oldest friend. 

From there he'd simply gotten distracted by the fluttering of a stray dragonfly and had followed the shiny creature all the way down to the reeds, accidentally stumbling (quite literally) across their resident undead poet in the process. He'd been worried that his presence would cause upset, he knew his clumsy behaviour wasn't always the ideal companionship for the others in times of distress but Thomas hadn't commented on the noise, he'd simply glancing morosely in his intruder's direction and invited him to sit with the wave of a hand.

And that's where the two were now, lying side by side in the wee hours of the morning, the grass around them so damp it would surely be uncomfortable for any living being, and staring up at the clear skies of the wintry English countryside. 

They'd been there so long that when the question came it was soft, the wind brushing a gentle whisper against Robin's ear, "What about the stars?"

"Huh?" 

Dark eyes turned toward him, "Well you said the moon has always been there," Thomas breathed out, a habit none of them had ever broken, "But what about the stars?"

"Why you ask?" 

"I've spent my whole life, and afterlife, gazing upward and dreaming," a hand twitched in the air, a parody of it's usual dramatics, and Robin grunted in understanding.

"I see the sky up there and know it's the same one I've always seen, if one star were to go out I would likely never realise - it has not yet been enough lifetimes - but you, you've been here so long, that must be why you chose the moon, perhaps? The stars, the suns of other worlds, they twinkle and fade." 

Robin too broke his gaze from the sky, choosing to turn toward his well-spoken friend, "Well you right," he paused, trying to grasp the right words, "Lights change, I not always notice, been alone so long with just moonah glow that it hard to see - but sometimes, sometimes, I look up and star moved, star gone, sky dark, roof above, no roof - it is all different."

The caveman drew his thick furs around him, "I see people move so fast and bear gone so fast, wolves no longer howl here but me, I still howl - even stars can leave but moonah move slow, moonah still there."

The poet hummed low in his throat, attention drawn back to the objects of their discussion, "You know the theory that we're stuck here because we've got unfinished business?"

"Yea?"

"And everyone looks at me and thinks all I am is some romantic fool, a tortured soul pining for my lost love," Thomas disregarded the answering head shake with another flick of his hand, "Come, I know they do, they always have"

Robin disagreed, "Maybe little bit, at first, but you friend now, we know you better than that!"

A dip in the conversation, crickets chirping around them and then once more, that rustle in the air, "My friend," the poet sighed, "I just wanted to see the stars one last time."

A gentle touch to a slender shoulder "Well," a grin, "Then we were never wrong."


End file.
